One Last Time
by marasydnyjade
Summary: Why was Numair forced to leave Carthak? One-shot, Complete.


One Last Time 

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Arram Draper or anything in the Empire of Carthak and am not making any money on this story.

**Rating**: I agonized over the rating for quite a while, and have decided it should be PG-13.  **There will be references to sex and sexual relations**, but there is no description.  Also, there are no 'swear words' however **there is questionable sexual language.  If any of this offends you please, please, do not read this story.  **

Thank You.

I really should be writing my political philosophy paper.  But this is the plot bunny that will not stay dead:

**** 

It was late, or early, dependent on how one looked at the world.  And Arram Draper was rather concerned about how a person looked at the world.  He was in the business of perception, and as a mage, it was a matter of rather import to be concerned about his surroundings.  Had he been fully aware, then, he should have had no problems finding his dark robe, which he hated to call 'black' as he believed that the connotations that went with the title were rather haughty.  But back to the matter at hand, clothes.

He gently detangled himself from the beautiful woman that was delicately snoring next to him.  The last thing he needed was for her to wake up, he could only imagine the screeching that would accompany her waking.  Constantly, she would nag and bother him, as if she had any right to interfere with his life.  

Honestly, she was his whore.

Well, perhaps whore was too strong of a word.  But there was one thing that he could be sure of, since they were not married, there was no way she could be a proper lady.  And she had already been in her damaged state when he started canoodling with her.  Which, for all intents and purposes made her a whore.

In his mind.

Not that he would ever dare to say it out loud.

Throwing on his boots, he quietly made his way to the door, and opened it slowly.  Glancing once more at the bed, and the woman in it, he marveled at the way the sun hit her skin, making it glow, with the exception of one little blemish on her back, where she had a mark from birth.  He felt a surge of desire.

But it was late and he should not tarry.

****

Having stopped at his parents' house for a new shirt, he was glad that the two had already left for the day.  The last thing he needed was questions on why he didn't spend the night at the University.  Leaving a bouquet of flowers in a vase on the parlor table for his mother, he exited out the back door, through the kitchen where he had stopped to grab an apple.  The distance to the University was a bit long on foot, and he was rather upset that he had had to leave his horse in the stables the night before, when secrecy was more important then speed.  

He finally made it to his office, not much later then he had planned, but long enough to keep a certain person waiting for longer then they were accustomed.  

The man stood, and gave Arram a stern look.

Arram smiled back, "I'm keeping you humble, your Imperial Majesty."

Ozorne looked at his friend, "why do you say that word like it is a good thing?"  They both made their way into the office, Arram behind his desk and the future Emperor lounging on one of the chairs that faced opposite.  

"So," Ozorne began innocently, "where were you?"

Arram looked up from the scroll he was reading, to take in the sight of the elder man leering at him.  "I overslept."

"Not in your room at the University, you came from the wrong hallway."

Arram was getting more concerned and annoyed at the questions.  "I spent the night at my parents' house."  He looked down again, as if to signal the end of the discussion.

But Ozorne was not done, he got up and began to pace, "I think you are lying to me, I think, in fact, I know that you spent the night with a woman.  It is written all over your face."  He got close to the desk in an interrogative manner.  "Who is it?  I know it isn't that Varice girl, since I . . . um . . . saw her last night and she mentioned she hadn't seen you in a while."  
  


Relieved they had moved to safer topics Arram chimed in "She's been getting on my nerves."

"Right, I understand Arram, she's a little slut anyway, and you would believe the things I hear she does for some of the men in the palace."

Arram was quite nervous, for if the Monarch ever knew what sort of extra-curricular activities he was partaking in; it was quite possible that Arram would be dead.  "Are we going to talk business, because I have work to do?"

**** 

The two parted, Ozorne leaving for the palace, and Arram to work with the promise of coming to the ball that would occur tonight earlier than usual so the two could spend more quality time together.  

Arram tried desperately to get the woman out of his head, but every time he shut his eyes, or began reading an extremely boring passage, she would appear.  She was a little minx and he was caught in her web of seduction.

She was unlike any other woman he had ever met, which he based on the fact that she had been educated outside of the Empire, in the country of Tyra, where things were always a lot looser.  She refused to follow the dogmas that had been set for her, but her opposition was a silent one.

It was addictive to Arram.

He knew that he should forget about her, because she was nothing but trouble, and could very well be the death of him, but like most poisons, it was impossible to stop using this one.  

*** 

The ball that night didn't go on as planned.  Arram had reached the palace about two hours before the festivities of the night were scheduled to occur.  The slaves were in a tizzy, running here and there, unsure what to do.  He made his way quickly to Ozorne suite, amazed at the silence that prevailed over the palace.  

When he reached his destination, he found out why.

"My Father has died." Arram looked down, and made the sign against evil.

"Ozorne, Your Imperial Majesty, I am so sorry."  

The older man looked at his long-time friend.  "Please, Arram, do not refer to me as such, we shall always be the best of friends, I could never be one so high in your eyes."

*** 

Arram had left the company of Ozorne, and made his way through the Imperial suites, on his way out for the night.

He was stopped, and pushed into a room, the door firmly shut behind the two, he looked up at the woman who pushed him there.

"We can't do this anymore," he muttered, pushing her hands away from his collar.  She had led him to her suite in the palace and was trying her hardest to get him to submit to her.  "If we get caught, I'm dead."  

She giggled, "No, it will be alright."  She giggled again "I'll lock the door."

He threw caution to the wind, and submitted to his baser instincts.

In their revelry neither noticed the door being opened and then, a few moments later, discreetly shut.

*** 

Most men would have been relieved to find that their little sister and their best friend had taken a liking to each other.  

Ozorne was furious.

Not only had Arram ruined his sister, but also their friendship.  The two men had been having a rather strained relationship since Arram had taken the black robe.  Ozorne was not used to being second best in anything.  And now, he was first loser to Arram in the attentions of his sister.  

Ozorne couldn't handle it, and he no longer would.  He sent for the sergeant of the guards, and told him to keep an eye out for his friend.

Meanwhile the Emperor settled into wait, for the traitor would come to him like a fly to a spider's web.

*** 

Arram left for the evening, later then he originally expected, and was stunned to find the sergeant of the guards stopped him, and led him back into the palace.

He stood in front of Ozorne, who sat behind the large desk of his new office.  The Emperor dismissed everyone.  "Arram, I trusted you, I trusted you with my most deep secrets, I trusted you with things I would never, ever trust another person with.  And you did nothing but betray me.  You are a traitor."

Arram was nervous, somehow, Ozorne had found out.  "Your Imperial Majesty, please forgive me."

"Forgive!"  The Emperor yelled, and pushed everything of the desk that stood between the men.  Arram jumped at he heard glass shatter.  "How can I forgive you?  You have destroyed everything we once had."  He turned to look out of the window.  "I will give you tonight to bring your affairs into order, as a man I owe you that, dawn tomorrow you will be hanged with your lover."

"Now get out of my sight."

Arram hurried, his mind thinking a million thoughts a second, _he needed to flee his home_.  He stopped at the house his parents held in the city, in order to urge them to make for a country estate.  The house was dark, and when he entered, he noticed it was empty.  Sans one person.

"Varice, what are you doing here."

"Arram I heard what happened, and have already gotten your parents out of the city.  I cannot tell you where they are, but they are safe.  There is a boat in the harbour, marked with a green slash over its name.  It makes for Tortall tonight.  You need to be on that boat."

He made to embrace her.

"No, just go, you must hurry."  She sighed, tears in her eyes.  "Just go."

He left, never to turn back.

**** 

It was a few hours before dawn when the Imperial agents came to the office of Arram Draper, Master, and Black Robe.  The office was empty, much like the university room and his parents' house.  Draper had given them the slip, but the woman could not.

The Emperor would have to be pleased with her death alone.  

*** 

As dawn broke, the sun flashed across the body of the Emperor's sister, hanging from the gallows in front of the palace.  Ozorne watched from his place in his new office.  The men he had sent to Arram's office earlier were back.  The traitor had not been founded, but the office was stripped.  

They had brought him Arram's birds.  

How Arram had loved those birds.  

Ozorne would also love them, as if they were his own.    


End file.
